OKAY... it wasn't Alaska (that will come very soon) but I was heading home.
As I am driving up Olive coming to 67th avenue, for some inexplicable reason I turned right rather than my usual straight route.
Instead of heading west on the Carefree highway I took the New River road cut-off.
Instead of Kingman/Las Vegas... I was now driving towards Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon beyond.
There had been terrific snowfalls only days ago, and why I was heading for it, I could not explain at the time. After all, the day was bright, sunny and temperatures had risen during the week into the high sixties and even touched seventies on my last ride to Aquila.
Traffic was very heavy on I-17N as I passed the entrance to Senator Highway, which led to Crown King... I smiled to myself... the easy way.
With each passing mile, the Blazer climbed up into the surrounding mountains and snow began appearing in small patches on the east/north side of the hillsides. By the time I was closing Flagstaff, drifts were still piled high in shaded areas, reflecting the blinding sun into my shades.
Once again my new GPS girlfriend, Lori... who had accompanied me for the first time this trip, was trying her darnedest to send me home via Vegas. "After one quarter mile, turn right. Then take the motorway..." she cooed softly into my ears with stereo clarity. I thought, as I passed the exit, 'isn't that just like a woman... take me to Vegas Baby!'
Not on this trip.
I am a "MAN," and I'm doing the driving, making the decisions here honey!
Hahaha... easy to write this when talking about a computer generated voice, right guys. Had Lori been sitting next to me, she would have been coolly whispering into my ear. Cool I say because she would have been sitting atop my cooler full of road food and drinks!
Nevertheless I brushed off her antics and she finally relented by steering me towards Calgary.
I have done this particular route several times in past years. As you clear the last of the major populations centers, the road drops to opposing single lanes and the speed accordingly. The country opens up into a vast plain flanked on both sides by red cliffs, tall against the skyline.
We pulled off at Lee's Ferry just south of Page.
Here at this location John Lee built the river crossing during 1871 and 2. Earlier in his life, he'd fell afoul of the law, and was executed a few years later for his involvement in the 1857 Mountain Meadows massacre.
His wife sold the ferry crossing in 1879 for reportedly, a hundred cows.
It operated until 1929 when the first Navajo bridge was constructed by the US government.
Today it's an impressive sight looking down the uncovered bridge nearly 500 feet to the muddy Colorado.
A twin radial engined relic of perhaps WW2 vintage flew by up the canyon at treetop (okay there are no trees, but low) level thundering some tourists on a daring high speed? pass through the Grand Canyon.
I had my Olympus in hand and only had just barely enough time to swing it over to the west, and with sun blinding me, press the shutter in the general direction of the sound of fury, bouncing around the canyon walls. There is still something so nostalgic and beautiful hearing an air cooled engine droning like an oversize dragonfly, maybe that's why the Harley crowd likes those open pipes of theirs.
Course... it does nothing for me but causing annoyance when they "drive" by in weekend hordes. On the other hand, hearing a B-17 or old Beaver and this twin here, shivers me timbers so to speak. Romance of a bygone era perhaps...
Cliffs tower over you rising a thousand feet or more into the blue sky.
Standing on the walking bridge and looking straight down past my tootsies is an eerie and spectacular view. Knowing that all that separates you and a miserable death in the turbines at Hoover Dam downstream is the aging metal structure and 500 feet of very thin desert air!
Not to worry that, will never happen... you'll either die of fright tumbling down or certainly when you hit the concrete like water of the Colorado.
This would not be a good place for anyone with a weak heart in a major wind or earth tremor!
After a short break, I was on the road once more, driving this lonely desert road towards Utah. Near the state borders the highway begins to climb once more, this time several thousand feet into thick pine forests.
Once I'd left the bridge behind, I was again at 130kph, heat flushing my face through the thin glass of my driver's window. The one way routes to the North face of the GC were still closed by snow, maybe some day with a KLR 650 or similar, I will ride to these places from my home in Phoenix.
I passed by the adobe dwellings of a people moved on, not far from here the Anasazi built their cliff-side homes where they survived for a thousand years or more.
I felt somewhat sad, knowing this will most likely be the last time I drive this stretch of highway in my lifetime. In just a few short months, our new home in Prince Edward Island Canada, would be completed, the transition from living in Alberta will be underway, and future trips to the American Southwest would be via airline and not interstate.
Who knows... like Bond, never say never right :)
As I am driving up Olive coming to 67th avenue, for some inexplicable reason I turned right rather than my usual straight route.
Instead of heading west on the Carefree highway I took the New River road cut-off.
Instead of Kingman/Las Vegas... I was now driving towards Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon beyond.
There had been terrific snowfalls only days ago, and why I was heading for it, I could not explain at the time. After all, the day was bright, sunny and temperatures had risen during the week into the high sixties and even touched seventies on my last ride to Aquila.
Traffic was very heavy on I-17N as I passed the entrance to Senator Highway, which led to Crown King... I smiled to myself... the easy way.
With each passing mile, the Blazer climbed up into the surrounding mountains and snow began appearing in small patches on the east/north side of the hillsides. By the time I was closing Flagstaff, drifts were still piled high in shaded areas, reflecting the blinding sun into my shades.
Once again my new GPS girlfriend, Lori... who had accompanied me for the first time this trip, was trying her darnedest to send me home via Vegas. "After one quarter mile, turn right. Then take the motorway..." she cooed softly into my ears with stereo clarity. I thought, as I passed the exit, 'isn't that just like a woman... take me to Vegas Baby!'
Not on this trip.
I am a "MAN," and I'm doing the driving, making the decisions here honey! Hahaha... easy to write this when talking about a computer generated voice, right guys. Had Lori been sitting next to me, she would have been coolly whispering into my ear. Cool I say because she would have been sitting atop my cooler full of road food and drinks!
Nevertheless I brushed off her antics and she finally relented by steering me towards Calgary.
I have done this particular route several times in past years. As you clear the last of the major populations centers, the road drops to opposing single lanes and the speed accordingly. The country opens up into a vast plain flanked on both sides by red cliffs, tall against the skyline.
We pulled off at Lee's Ferry just south of Page. Here at this location John Lee built the river crossing during 1871 and 2. Earlier in his life, he'd fell afoul of the law, and was executed a few years later for his involvement in the 1857 Mountain Meadows massacre.
His wife sold the ferry crossing in 1879 for reportedly, a hundred cows.
It operated until 1929 when the first Navajo bridge was constructed by the US government.
Today it's an impressive sight looking down the uncovered bridge nearly 500 feet to the muddy Colorado.
A twin radial engined relic of perhaps WW2 vintage flew by up the canyon at treetop (okay there are no trees, but low) level thundering some tourists on a daring high speed? pass through the Grand Canyon.I had my Olympus in hand and only had just barely enough time to swing it over to the west, and with sun blinding me, press the shutter in the general direction of the sound of fury, bouncing around the canyon walls. There is still something so nostalgic and beautiful hearing an air cooled engine droning like an oversize dragonfly, maybe that's why the Harley crowd likes those open pipes of theirs.
Course... it does nothing for me but causing annoyance when they "drive" by in weekend hordes. On the other hand, hearing a B-17 or old Beaver and this twin here, shivers me timbers so to speak. Romance of a bygone era perhaps...
Cliffs tower over you rising a thousand feet or more into the blue sky.Standing on the walking bridge and looking straight down past my tootsies is an eerie and spectacular view. Knowing that all that separates you and a miserable death in the turbines at Hoover Dam downstream is the aging metal structure and 500 feet of very thin desert air!
Not to worry that, will never happen... you'll either die of fright tumbling down or certainly when you hit the concrete like water of the Colorado.
This would not be a good place for anyone with a weak heart in a major wind or earth tremor!
After a short break, I was on the road once more, driving this lonely desert road towards Utah. Near the state borders the highway begins to climb once more, this time several thousand feet into thick pine forests.
Once I'd left the bridge behind, I was again at 130kph, heat flushing my face through the thin glass of my driver's window. The one way routes to the North face of the GC were still closed by snow, maybe some day with a KLR 650 or similar, I will ride to these places from my home in Phoenix.
I passed by the adobe dwellings of a people moved on, not far from here the Anasazi built their cliff-side homes where they survived for a thousand years or more.
I felt somewhat sad, knowing this will most likely be the last time I drive this stretch of highway in my lifetime. In just a few short months, our new home in Prince Edward Island Canada, would be completed, the transition from living in Alberta will be underway, and future trips to the American Southwest would be via airline and not interstate.
Who knows... like Bond, never say never right :)
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